Anna Cassidy (Winchester): Daughter of Sam
by rosepose
Summary: What happens when Rose Cassidy, an old flame of Sam's, bequeaths something to him in her will after her untimely passing? What happens when that something is their daughter?
1. From Now On

The phone rings, and Sam's eyes jolt open. Groggily, he feels around the nightstand for his phone. He puts it to his ear. "Hello?"

There's a small female voice on the other end. "Um, is this Sam Winchester?"

"How did you get this number?" he demands, now sitting upright. A light goes on. He's woken up Dean.

"It's kind of a long story."

"Tell me, or I hang up." Dean looks over at him with confusion, he wants to know what's going on. Sam raises a finger to him and Dean glares, still curious.

"Well, I started asking friends of my Mom's if they knew who you were, and none of them knew anything. Um, then…I had this dream…"

"And?" Sam asks impatiently.

"You'll think I'm nuts."

He heaves a sigh. "Try me."

"Fine. I had this dream where a weird guy in a trench coat told me your number, happy?"

Sam shakes his head in confusion. "Cass?"

"Who's Cass?"

"Never mind that. Why the hell did you call me at four in the morning?!"

She lets out a nervous chuckle. "My name's Anna. I'm your daughter."

Sam's face falls in shock. "Sam, who the hell is it?!" Dean asks. Of course, he doesn't get answer.

"No." Sam says quietly. Then again, louder and firmer, "No."

"Look, please just listen to me. I know that you probably want nothing to do with me and I wouldn't even call, but my Mom's name was Rose Cassidy. She…died four days ago of Leukemia.

"I'm…so sorry." Rose…he remembers. It was eleven years ago, right after Stanford, getting back on the road with Dean. He was still grieving over Jess, but he remembers her clearly. Rose…

Dean is staring at him again. "It's fine, well, no it's not but…" Anna says. "She didn't have any family besides me and now…I'm in a foster home calling you at four in the morning 'cause I'm not allowed to use the phone."

Sam is slack jawed. "I'm—"

"Sorry, yeah…. She had a will. And it said that she wanted you to take care of me if anything happened to her."

"Okay, look, kid I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to do."

 _Kid?_ Dean mouths.

"Where I'm staying, it's in Harrisonburg, PA 456 Connelly Drive. Can you remember that?" Her voice drops to a whisper. "Shoot! I have to go." The phone hangs up.

Sam's eyes widen and he drops the phone next to him.

"Sam, you mind telling me what the _hell_ that was?!"

"I…"

"Spit it out!"

"That was… my…daughter."

"Come again?"

"Apparently I have a daughter."

"Dude…"

"Her mom died and she wants me to come get her from her _foster home_."

"Congratulations, man."

"Shut up!"

"Well, you gonna go or what?"

"Are you crazy?!"

Dean shakes his head. "Man, I don't know how you can just _not_ go. She's your daughter, you don't even want to _meet_ her?"

Sam is annoyed. "Of course I want to meet her, Dean! She's my friggin' _responsibility_ now! I can't take care of her, Dean."

Dean wipes his face. "If you won't, then who will?" He pauses. "What's her name?"

"Why?"

"Because Sam, I'd like to know my niece's name."

"Anna."

"Anna," he repeats, testing the name in his mouth. "I like it."

"Yeah," Sam says softly.

"Well, Sammy, it comes down to this: Do _you_ want to raise your daughter, or are you gonna let someone else do it?"

"I don't wanna be Dad, Dean."

"Then don't be."

.

.

Dean sighs as the two of them pull up to the house. They drove through the night to be here. "You ready, Sam?" he asks.

"Yeah. Look, Dean I'm gonna give her a choice. I'm gonna lay out all of the cards in front of her. I'm going to tell her what could happen, and what will happens if she comes with us."

Dean nods. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Slowly and carefully, Sam gets out of the Impala and makes his way up the stairs of the house. He runs his fingers through his hair before ringing the doorbell.

The woman who answers the door appears to be in her mid-forties. She is slightly pudgy and has unnaturally blonde hair. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah, you can. My name's Sam Winchester. I…believe my daughter is here, Anna?"

She looks at him up and down skeptically, then motions for him to come inside. "I'll get her for you. First I need to see some identification."

"Yes, of course." He gets out his wallet and hands a card to her. She looks at it for a moment, then hands it back to him.

"Wait here." After a few moments she comes back with a girl trailing behind her. She looks to be about five feet tall and is smaller than what he imagined from her voice on the phone. She has unruly, jet-black hair that gets in the way of her deep brown eyes. She's beautiful, and he helped make her. He looks at her with awe. "I'll leave you two to catch up." She eyes Sam one more time before leaving the room.

Anna smiles. "I knew you'd come."

He smiles. "Listen, Anna, why don't you sit?" She nods, and they both sit down next to each other on the sofa. "Look, there…is a lot you don't know about me."

"I…think I know."

"What?"

"I had another dream, and Castiel told me who you are. He said you hunt monsters, evil things."

"And you believed him?"

"Was he right?"

Sam sighs. "Yes. And I'm warning you, if you choose to come with me, you'll be in danger all the time."

"But you'll protect me."

"Yeah, I will, but eventually…."

"I don't care."

"You will care."

"No."

"We'll be moving constantly."

"I _don't care_." she repeats. "My mom said she wanted you to take of me. I'm going."

"Okay," he says finally. "If you're that sure, I'll come back tomorrow."

She smiles. "I'll pack."

.

.

The next day when Sam rings the doorbell, the door opens immediately. It's the same woman again, and this time Anna is next to her.

"You ready to go?" Sam asks.

"Yeah." She grins up at him.

"Come on."

"Bye, Charlotte." she says, rather unenthusiastically to the woman. She then slings her backpack over her shoulder and hops down to the first step. The door closes behind them.

Sam eyes her bag. "That's everything?"

"Everything that matters." They reach the bottom of the steps and her eyes wander over to the Impala. "That's your car?"

"Yeah, it is."

"It's cool." Sam smiles.

Dean gets out of the car to get a good look at Sam's daughter. She really looks no different than he imagined. "Anna, this is my brother Dean."

"Hi," she says shyly.

Dean smiles. "Hi."

Once in the car she asks, "I don't have to call him 'Uncle', right?"

Dean chuckles. "Not if you don't want to."

"Well, I guess this means I'm gonna grow…like a lot, huh?"

"I would bet on it." Sam says.

.

.

The engine powers down as they pull up next to their motel room. Sam and Dean turn their heads and look at Anna in the backseat. She is fast asleep. Sam looks to his brother. "Should I wake her?"

"Your call, but I'd let her sleep. When she wakes up, her old life will be gone."

Sam nods and gets out of the car. He opens the door to the backseat and scoops Anna into his arms. Dean unlocks the motel door and Sam walks in, laying her down gently on one of the beds, taking off her shoes and putting her under the covers.

.

.

Anna moans softly, rubbing her eyes as she wakes up. Sam and Dean are working on their computers. They look over at her when she sits up. "How long was I asleep?"

"Like 3 hours." Dean says. "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

"A couple days, I guess. Where are we?"

"Michigan," Sam says.

"There's…monsters here, then?"

"Yeah." Sam says, knowing that this is going to be hard for her.

"Great." She scans the floor until she finds her backpack. She rummages through it until she finds her journal and begins to write.

 _OCTOBER 19_ _th_

 _Dear Journal,_

 _I'm sorry for not writing yesterday. It's been 5 days since Mom died._

She stops writing and stares at the last sentence. Seeing the words in front of her makes everything around her seem more real than ever. All of the sudden, tears well up in her eyes. She is barely able to wipe them away before they fall. She looks over at Sam and Dean. They're talking about strange murders and luckily aren't paying her any attention at the moment.

 _The day she died, she told me that she was going someplace better than Earth. A place where all your sorrows and despairs and worries just fade away into nothing. A place where time is distorted so an eternity can feel like a day. A place where your greatest memories become the world around you. A place where suffering fades away._

 _If only you didn't have to die first to get there._

 _It's a long story, but I found my father, and my uncle. Their names are Sam and Dean Winchester. Sam is my father. To tell the truth, the both of them scare me…a lot. Not as in I'm afraid they would hurt me, but rather it's the way they carry themselves. Nothing scares them._

 _We're all born with instincts. Those instincts help us survive. One of those instincts happens to be running away from danger. It seems that over the years, these guys, my family, had this particular instinct brutally beaten out of them, stomped on, and then set on fire for good measure. I can't help but wonder if this will happen to me…._

 _I'm with them now that Mom has died. They seem like the kind of people that put family before everything, even themselves. I guess that puts the odds in my favor as much as possible, if I'm going to live this lifestyle with them. I know that my chances of survival are probably much higher at the foster home where nobody gives a crap about me, but I'd take quality of life over quantity of life any day._

 _And thus, with this entry I begin to document this brand new chapter of my life. The chapter in which I have no actual parental guidance, I may or may not go to college, get married and have children and grandchildren, and I may or may not die tomorrow._

 _Yeah, I guess in all of the heartfelt talk I forgot to mention. My dad hunts monsters. And has an angel-friend named Castiel._

 _Please feel free to interpret and/or absorb this information any way you wish. Just know, however that everything I have written in this journal about my life is the 100% Grade A truth. I have never misled you in anyway, but have instead shone light on the brutally honest truth of all my endeavors, experiences, and thoughts. My journals contain my entire life, so I must do what I can to keep them safe… and accurate._

 _I, Anna Cassidy, (/Winchester), am at this point in time, 87% sure of my complete and total sanity. I will let you know if and when this number changes._

Anna lets out a deep, satisfied, sigh and then turns the very first page of the journal and picks up her pencil again.

 _WARNING_

 _If your name is not Anna Cassidy/Winchester, you probably should not have her journal. That said, I simply cannot stop you from continuing if you choose to do so. I understand that humans are very curious creatures, and that if I wanted to keep my thoughts private, I should have left them in my head. This journal contains everything that I think and feel. So, by all means, continue if you think that it will help you understand me, or that it will satisfy your curiosity._

 _But tread carefully. I may have written about you._

Anna puts down her pencil and gives her work a once-over, smiling because her work is completed.

Until she looks up from her book, she doesn't notice that Sam and Dean have been watching her write for several minutes. "What have you been writing?" Sam asks her tentatively.

"Stuff." Anna says carefully.

"Stuff about what?"

The girl sighs. "I think that if I was really interested in letting you know, I would have already specified."

"Okay, then," he says, raising his eyebrows to Dean.

Anna glares at him for a moment before speaking again. "I have a question. Why are there three people and two beds?" The question seems to catch them off guard. They probably didn't think it through all the way. "Right, I'll sleep on the floor, then."

They look at her, puzzled. "You're not sleeping on the floor." Dean says.

"Yeah, I am. Look, both of you, feel free to join me. But then these two semi-comfortable beds will just go to waste."

.

.

It's nighttime, and Anna is fairly certain that both the boys are asleep. She creeps past their beds and out of the door then slumps against the nearest wall, sliding into a sitting position. Suddenly she has her head buried in her knees and is sobbing uncontrollably. "Mommy," she whimpers.

.

.

Sam wakes when he hears the door open and close. When he nears the door, he hears muffled sobs and opens it to investigate. To his left, he sees Anna crying, and sits down next to her. She looks up at him. "She's dead, Sam."

"I know," he says, hugging her tightly. Her sobs are now muffled by his warm chest.

She lifts her head slightly. "It feels like someone ripped a hole in my chest."

"I know, I know," he says softly. "It's going to be okay."

"No it's not. It's never gonna be okay again."

"Shh," he soothes, stroking her hair. "You're gonna be okay."

"I'm cold, she says finally.

"Come on, let's get you inside."


	2. Life In The Bunker

Sam lets out a disappointed sigh when he peeks into Anna's room to see her uneaten dinner from last night. It's been exactly one month since they took her to the bunker. He has hated leaving her here by herself when he and Dean go on hunts, and sometimes even sits them out to stay with her. The bunker seems to be their home now more than ever.

She seems to be adjusting to her new school okay, but he has yet to hear of any friends. He took a peek at her grades, once (everything is online now), and he was proud to see that she had all A's and B's.

Right now, Sam is happy with his life, which scares him. His happiness never seems to last.

Anna hates the sixth grade. There is simply no other way to word it, and Anna, being a writer, would usually pride herself on being able to do so. First of all, the sixth grade will always remind her of her mother. Second, she has seven different teachers with seven different sets of expectations and six homework assignments every night. Not to mention that she can actually _feel_ Sam worrying about her all the time. He's just always _there_.

After staring at a math problem for an overly extended period of time, Anna puts down her notebook and picks up her journal.

 _November 20th_

 _Dear Journal,_

 _Right now, my life kinda sucks. Not that I'm complaining. I mean, I could still be back at that foster home. And I like Sam, I really do, but I don't think that even the know-it-all knows what he's doing any more than I do._

 _Dean seems like a pretty cool guy, given how extremely messed up he is. He's always doing this annoying self-hate thing to himself. But, you know, I'm not judging, just observing…supposedly. I don't really know the full extent of what the two of them have been through. But_ I'm _worried about_ them _. They just look so tired, so emotionally spent. But all they do is keep on marching through life, guns blazing. I think they just need to sit down and take a breather. I think that the world can keep turning for a few minutes in their absence._

 _I haven't been eating. I know that I should, but I can never bring myself to. Mom probably has something to do with it, but_

There is a light knock on the doorframe. Sam is leaning against it with a small smile on his face. "Can I talk to you?"

"In a minute," she says, looking up at for a moment, then back to her writing. "I'm not finished, yet."

 _I think_ , she manages to write, before Sam speaks again. "Anna, just stop with the journal for a minute, please. I need to talk to you."

Reluctantly, she puts her pencil down at looks at him. She knows what he's going to say. He sits down on her bed. He nods over to the plate with chicken breast and rice on it, untouched from last night. He raises his eyebrows. "What's that?" he asks.

Anna looks nervous. "Food," she says, as innocently as she can manage.

"Really? Because it really looks like the dinner I made you last night."

"That's odd," she says anxiously.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

"Yeah, I have," she lies. "Now, will you just go away?"

Sam just looks at her. He can see right through her. He can see everything that she doesn't want him to. All he wants to do is help her, but she doesn't want to be helped. "I lie professionally, so you're going to have to do better than that." he says.

She gets under the covers and sinks back into her pillows. "I don't know, okay?"

"You need to eat something."

"I know."

He looks at her thoughtfully, then says, "I'm going to heat up a slice of pizza. When I come back for it, it had better be gone, okay?"

"Or what?"

"Or, we will cross that bridge when and if we come to it."

.

.

Sam walks over to the large table in the library where Dean is sitting. He's eating a sand which and watching something that is apparently very amusing. He sits in a chair next to Dean and sighs. Dean pauses his movie. "What's wrong, Sammy?"

"She won't talk to me. I mean, obviously something is wrong, but she just won't _talk_ to me!"

"Well," Dean says, between bites, "you won't like it, but there is a way to know everything she's thinking."

"Dean! _No_." No matter how incredibly tempted he was to do so, he was not going to read his daughter's journal.

"You think of a better idea, let me know," he says, unpausing his movie.

.

.

So, against his better judgement, Sam decided to take Dean's advice. When Anna was at school the next day, he went into her room. He gave everything a once-over before checking the dresser. Sure enough, he found it at the top in the sock drawer. It was looked worn, and it was bound in black leather, with a red ribbon marking her current place.

He opened it to the cover and read her warning, taking a second to marvel at how great of a writer she was for her age. Then, he opened it to her latest entry and began to read. He wasn't sure how to feel about what she had written about him and Dean, but then again, it _was_ in her warning. He stops dead, when the subject of her entry changes. He leans in, intrigued. This is what he was looking for.

 _I haven't been eating. I know that I should, but I can never bring myself to. Mom probably has something to do with it, but I think it may be something different._

 _Ever since I moved, everything has fallen apart. I hold myself together in front of Sam and Dean, but I'm sad. Everyone that I have ever cared about is back in Pennsylvania. And I miss them. I miss everything. Until now, I have lived in the same house for my entire life. It was my home._

 _And I had friends, people who I have known since kindergarten. People that I needed. And now, I dread every time the teacher assigns a group project, or has us work in partners, or, God forbid, lets us sit wherever we want. Because now I'm the new kid who doesn't know what place is acceptable to sit at lunch, and who doesn't understand any of the gossip and who all the kids love to stare at because I don't belong. For the first time, I'm the odd one out. And it sucks._

 _I guess that's why I don't want to talk to Sam. I know that he means well, and I appreciate how much he cares, but I guess…I just don't want to feel silly._

 _Everything that they've gone through, and everything that they're facing is infinitely worse than any problems that I could ever have. So, they don't need to hear about it. Any of it. Not that I'd want them to know anyway. Which is why I've elected not to tell them that it's my birthday tomorrow._

 _Anyway, I guess I lied before. Not everyone I've ever cared about is in Pennsylvania. Because two of them are right here._

Sam smiles a little and closes the book with a soft _thud_. He shoves it back into the drawer and exits the room, making sure to close the door on his way out.

.

.

Anna doesn't talk to Sam on the way home from school, or rather, she tries not to. "How was school?" he asks her.

"Normal, boring, mediocre, et cetera." she sighs.

"Did you, uh, learn anything?"

She shrugs. "I dunno, probably."

"Are you making any friends?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" She glares at the back of his head. "You need a haircut. You look like a girl."

The car ride is silent after that.

.

.

Anna doesn't acknowledge Sam as she descends the staircase, rushing to her room as quickly as possible without running. Sam knows that something is off with her, even more so than usual, but he decides not to bother with it, not yet.

When Anna gets to her room, she collapses on the bed. School today was worse than mediocre. It flat out sucked. She got a D on her math quiz. Anna did _not_ get Ds.

She get up and reaches her hand into her dresser drawer for her journal. She stops dead. _That's odd_ , she thinks. Anna heaves a sigh because she is forced to leave the comfort of her bed to examine the situation more thoroughly. Upon full inspection of said drawer, she notices several things amiss. Her journal is not neatly positioned in the back left corner of the drawer. It is instead placed randomly in the middle of the drawer, disrupting the order of the socks around it. Anna slams it shut.

"Sam," she says angrily to herself, slamming the drawer shut. Anna barges out of the room and to the library, stopping in front of the long oak table where Sam and Dean were sitting. It looked like they were researching for a case. They look up at her curiously.

"Well, somebody doesn't look very happy," Dean says.

"Somebody went into my room," she says. "And I am willing to bet it was Sam. "Sam's eyes widen and he gulps. He's been caught. "So, I have a question for you, Sam. Did you read my journal?"

"I-"

"Just answer the question, _please_."

"Yes."

Tear fill up in her eyes, she is barely able to keep them at bay. "Of course you did. God, I can't _believe_ you!" She turns and runs to her room, slamming the door behind her _twice_ , to be sure that they got the message.

Sam gives Dean a glare, to which he raises his hands in surrender. "It really was terrible advice, but I'd thought you'd have better judgement, Sammy."


	3. The Angel In The Room

Sam knocks on Anna's door. There's no answer. He tries again. "Anna, can I come in?"

"Okay," she says quietly. He opens the door tentatively and slips inside. She heaves a sigh.

"Do, you wanna explain some of what just happened just now?"

"Is 'no' a valid answer?"

He chuckles a little and sits down on the edge of her bed. "Afraid not."

"I'm sorry. It's just…no one's ever read it before. And I didn't mean for you to see what…what I wrote about you guys."

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Anna doesn't say anything. She pulls her backpack next to her and rummages through it, a look of concentration on her face. Her hand stops when it closes around a thin envelope. Anna hugs it to her chest before holding it in front of her to see her mother's neat and beautiful handwriting. There was one thing written on it: Sam. Reluctantly, she hands it to him. He holds it lightly, as he would do with a feather. This envelope obviously meant a great deal to her.

"It's for you," she says, staring absently at her hands. "Mom wrote it before…." she trails off. "Anyway, I didn't read it. She made me promise. I was supposed to give it to you by now but…"

"Thank you," he says, staring at the paper in his hands. It was a piece of Rose.

"Go, read it." She pauses. "I'm sorry that I've been acting the way I have. I'll be better."

He nods at her, then goes to his room, plopping down on his bed. He turns the envelope over in his hands, ripping up the flap. The paper that falls out is neatly folded and slightly worn. He opens it carefully and reads.

 _Sam,_

 _I hope that you never have to read this. But, if you are reading this, it means I'm dead, as I'm sure you know. I'm sorry to have to leave such a responsibility, but I could not allow Anna to become an orphan like I was when I met you._

 _I want you to know that all these years I have loved you for giving me the greatest joy I could ever know. Our daughter is so smart, and kind, and sensitive. You'll come to love her no matter how much grief she causes you._

 _She used to write me stories when she was a bit younger. She said that if she could do anything, than it definitely had to involve her imagination._

 _I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I didn't mean to have a child before I was finished with college. I didn't mean to get cancer before my daughter could become a teenager. I meant to keep her all to myself forever._

 _So please, be patient with her. As I said, she's sensitive, and there's a lot that can hurt her. Protect her from it. Be kind. She tends to act out when things aren't right and you'll have to be patient as she adjusts to life with you and without me. And if you come to love her half as much as you do your brother, I know she will be in good hands._

 _Thank you Sam,_

 _Rose_

"Sammy?" Dean says, coming into Sam's room. Sam jumps and shoves the letter underneath his pillow. "What was that, Sam?"

Sam blinks. "N-nothing. Nothing."

Dean eyes his brother suspiciously for a moment, before changing the subject. "So did you do what I told you? Did you put your foot down?"

Sam lets out an angry sigh. "Yeah, Dean I did. I yelled, we cried, we laughed, and she called me Dad for the very first time."

"Shut up, Sammy, I'm just trying to help you."

"Well, don't. She's _my_ daughter, Dean, not yours."

"Yeah, I know, lucky her."

Sam gets up. "Oh, like _your_ parenting skills are so great? If I recall correctly, the last kid you came in contact with got so messed up you had to erase his _memory_."

Dean lets out a bitter chuckle. Then clocks Sam in the nose. Dean warned him never to mention them again. His brother stumbles backwards, pressing his fingers to his nostrils, checking for blood. He finds it. Sam shakes his head at Dean as he straightens. "Hey, Sam, I…" The pair of brothers turn to see Anna standing behind them in the doorway.

Sam wipes his nose quickly. "He started it," Dean says.

"I'll…come back later. Try not to kill each other." With that, she leaves her father and uncle to gape at each other. When Sam hears her bedroom door close, he grabs his coat.

"Where are _you_ going?"

"To get cake," he says already in the hallway.

Dean rushes after him. "Sammy? I think you mean pie!" Sam doesn't answer.

.

.

Anna awakes suddenly, her forehead drenched in sweat. She's had a good dream, only she couldn't remember what about. The clock on her bedside table reads 3:52 am. She suddenly becomes painfully aware of her stomach and its emptiness. Sitting up, she shrugs off her blankets, shivering at the sudden loss of warmth. The floor felt icy beneath her feet, and she decided it best to take her blanket with her.

On her way to the kitchen, she stops in the library. Sam is asleep in one of the chairs, and by the looks of it, uncomfortably. He lays, slumped forward, an open book serving as his pillow and his head tilted to the sight. She smiles a little at how adorable he looks in this position. _He must be cold_ , she thinks to herself. Anna shrugs off the blanket she's been sporting, catching it in her hands and then drapes it over Sam's body. He snuggles into, not waking.

She shudders and looks in the direction of the kitchen. It would be easier to just go back to her room and wait until morning.

But wait. No, she couldn't do that.

 _You have a task, Anna._

.

.

The next time Anna wakes, it is to the gentle shaking of her arm. "Anna, wake up."

She groans. "Wait, wha? What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty-four," Sam says cheerily.

Anna sits up. " AM?! You know it's _Saturday_ , right?"

He grins at her. "Happy birthday." She glares at him and buries her head underneath her pillow.

"There's pancakes," he says, knowing it will get her out of bed.

Her head pops up from under her pillow. "What kind?"

"Chocolate chip?"

She grins. "Good answer. Who made them?"

Sam furrows his brow. "What?"

"Did you make them, or did Dean make them?"

He sighs. "Dean made them."

"Good."

" _I_ could've made them!" He protests.

"Maybe, but everything you eat makes my tongue sad, so I'm being cautious."

"Hey!"

"I speak the truth."

He chuckles and says, "Come on, before they get cold."

Anna flails her arms about pathetically in Sam's direction. "Carry me," she whines.

"You can walk," he assures her.

"But it's my birthday," she pouts, "you said so yourself."

He stares at her a moment, then gives in. "Hop on," Sam says crouching, his back facing her, ready to give her a piggyback ride. Anna smiles to herself as he carries her down the hallway.

The day is off to a great start.

He sets her down in a chair in the library. "I'll be back with the pancakes."

.

.

That evening, all Sam had to do was yell "Cake," and Anna came running, slowing to a walk a few feet from the library table. The candles are already lit. She counts them in her head, just to be sure. All twelve are accounted for. She looks at Sam, then to Dean.

"You guys aren't gonna sing, are you?"

"Hey," Sam says defensively. "I can sing."

This earns a laugh from Dean. "Don't quit your day job, Sammy," he says, slapping his brother on the back. Anna laughs at this too.

Sam rolls his eyes. "Make a wish."

This stops Anna for a moment. What would she wish for? Things were great. So, as she blew out the candles, she can only think of one word: _Remiel_. She enjoys a brief moment of pride at the fact that she blew out all of the candles in one breath.

.

.

Remiel stirs awake in the unfamiliar room, sitting up to get a thorough look at his appendages. They're small and inferior-looking. He climbs out of the bed at looks around at the room. It is plain, with many subtle feminine touches. There is a pink shirt and jeans folded neatly on the bedside table next to a clock that reads 10:34 am. He looks down at his current attire. He is wearing some sort of soft clothing, it is loose and comfortable.

 _Perhaps this is not proper attire_ , he wonders, eventually shrugging and moving toward the door, peering out into the hallway. No one is in sight, until a man rounds the corner, stepping into the hallway. _Which one is it_ , he asks. _How do I react_? He searches for the answer silently as the man approaches him. He knows what she would say. "Hey, kiddo, happy birthday! What are you doing up so early?"

Remiel tilts his head. _Birthday? Oh, yes._ "I…was not tired," Remiel says. But it was in his tone, not Anna's. He reprimands himself silently. Remiel's oddness causes Dean to furrow his brow in confusion.

"O…kay. Well, Sam was going to tell you, but we found case, it's in Missouri. We leave tomorrow and Cass is going to stay with you."

 _Castiel! That abomination!_ "That is not necessary," Remiel says.

Dean stares at him a moment and says, "Well, tough. It's not up to you." It takes all of Remiel's restraint to keep from attacking Dean and blowing his cover.

"I suppose that is alright, then"

He looks at Remiel strangely again. This time, longer than before. He then retreats to what Remiel assumes is his bedroom.

.

.

Sam looks up from his laptop as Dean comes into his room. "Sammy, I think we have a problem."

"What? What is it?"

Dean sits down on his brother's bed. "It's Anna." He pauses. "I don't thinks that she's _Anna_."

Sam frowns. "What, you mean you think she's possessed? Dean, that's impossible, the entire bunker is warded."

"I dunno, Sammy. I talked to her just now and something was definitely off. The way she _spoke_ …"

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You think it's an angel?"

"Sam, trust me, something is off."

Sam nods. "Yeah, okay, we need to be sure. I've got an idea."

* * *

 **HEY GUYS! SORRY THE UPDATE TOOK SO LONG! I'VE JUST HAD ALL THESE IDEAS FLOATING AROUND. NEXT CHAPTER, ALL WILL BE EXPLAINED, ESPECIALLY THAT WHOLE CONFUSING TIME THING. (WHICH WAS INTENTIONAL, AND NOT A TYPO.) AND DON'T WORRY, SAM HAS A GREAT IDEA. (MORE OR LESS.)**

 **SO, YOU'VE REACHED THE END OF THE CHAPTER, HUH? MAYBE YOU SHOULD LEAVE A REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK?**

 ** _PLEASE!_**


	4. Remiel

*****I am so, so, so sorry for accidentally posting the chapter from another story on this.***** Please read the actual chapter nother will be posted ASAP to make up for this mistake.**

 **HEY, GUYS! SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS A BIT SHORT, BUT IT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING AND SAYS EVERYTHING I WANTED IT TO. THERE ARE FEELS. DON'T WORRY, THE PROBLEM WILL BE RESOLVED.**

* * *

"I-I just don't get how this could have happened." Sam says angrily. "We took every precaution-"

"Yeah, but the bunker isn't warded against angels. Because of Cass."

Sam runs his fingers through his hair. "And we never got Cass to do the rib thing. Dammit!"

"So, what's your amazing plan, then Sammy?" Dean asks skeptically.

Sam takes a moment to calm down. "It's Cass." he says simply. "He'll be able to tell if she's an angel, or a demon, or whatever the hell else."

"That's actually…a good idea."

"Yeah, well, I have those sometimes." Sam says, sighing deeply.

Dean gets up to leave his brother's room. "I'll call Cass."

.

.

Sam knocks on Anna's door, waiting anxiously for her (or whatever she was) to answer. After a moment, she is standing before him. "What is it?" she asks, tilting her head.

"It's time for cake." he says, trying his best to feign a genuine smile.

"Why would I want cake?" she asks, confused.

"It's your birthday." He can tell from her expression that she still doesn't understand.

"I suppose I am hungry," she says, but he knows she's lying.

"Come on, then," he says, nodding in the direction of the library, where they actually did set up the cake.

When they arrive at the library, Sam pauses as they stand about ten feet from the large oak table. There was no cake on it. Instead, Dean and Castiel were waiting for them. Anna glares at Castiel. The angel then yells, "Sam, now!"

In a swift motion, he grabs Remiel, holding him steady against his constant flailing.

"I have to hand it to." Remiel says. "That was fast.

Dean smiles sarcastically. "Next time, don't pick a twelve year old girl as your vessel."

Remiel glares at Dean. Mostly because he's right. In this body he has no power. But he had no other choice.

.

.

"Who are you?" Sam asks, rage overcoming him, his voice being absorbed by the walls of the dungeon.

Remiel chuckles, straining a bit beneath the restraints. "What, you don't remember me, Castiel?" This earns Castiel expecting looks from both brothers, but Castiel just hangs his head. "I'm Remiel. I was one of his followers in the aftermath of the fall. And then he betrayed all of us, for you two."

"What do you want?" Sam growled.

"Well, I have it already. A vessel. And a strong one, at that."

"Get out of her!" Sam yells.

"Why would I do that, Sam? I like it here." At this point, Dean is forced to restrain his brother. "Did you know, I can see everything in her head. There are things that she doesn't even put in her journal. She loves the both of you, so much, and yet she thinks she's your burden. She truly believes that you only care for her out of obligation. But that's not true, is it, Sam?"

"Get. Out. Of. Her. Now!"

"You're just not getting it, are you, Sam? I don't have to do anything. You can hurt me, not without hurting this vessel. But, don't worry about her. Right now, she's living out her perfect birthday inside her mind. She hasn't been this happy in months.

Sam turns and leaves, overwhelmed with anger and fear and worry. "Sam!" Dean yells after his brother. "Sammy!" Sam stops his hurried retreat in the hallway and lets his brother place a hand on his shoulder. "This is my fault," Sam says. "She should have been protected."

"Sam, now is not the time to play the blame game."

"God, Dean, what the hell are we gonna do? Last time you had to get Crowley to possess me to get Gadreel out. And, well, we aren't exactly on the best terms with him now, are we?"

"Well, look. Remiel, or whoever is trapped. we could just wait him out."

Sam shakes his head. "We don't even know if that will work."

"Well, unless you want to call in a favor from Crowley, it's all we got for now," Sam knows his brother is right..

.

Castiel watches as the two brothers retreat, leaving him alone with Remiel. "Why aren't you in heaven, Remiel?"

"I had to leave. Heaven is corrupt, even more so than usual. It's the darkness. Nobody knew that it was real. And now angels are so terrified, that they are fraternizing with demons. Everything is out of order."

"Why this vessel? You could have chosen any other." Castiel questions.

"It's nothing to do with the Winchesters. Anna was the strongest. So, I spoke to her, and she accepted me. I thought, if I could just get out of here, unnoticed… But, no success."

"Find another vessel."

Remiel lets out a cold laugh. "Why would I do that, when I currently have the Winchesters at my mercy?"

Castiel narrows his eyes. "And yet, here you are, bound and helpless."

.

.

Anna beams as Sam and Dean clap. Dean cuts the cake and gives her a large slice on a plate. "You guys are the best," she says, but then her smile falters. She hears something.

"And yet, here you are, bound and helpless." The somewhat familiar voice echoes in her head. She blinks, and for a moment, sees a man she recognizes to be Castiel.

She looked back at her father and uncle. They were still smiling as if nothing had happened. Odd. "What time is it, Sam?"

"6 pm, why?"

"It feels like I just woke up… Am I dreaming?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm I'm dreaming."

He shrugs. "Then I think so too."

"Why?"

"You already know. If you're really dreaming, then I'm just a figment of your imagination and another part of you. If you think you're dreaming, I think you're dreaming."

Anna's eyes widen. "I need to… how do I wake up?"

"You already know," Dean says, repeating Sam's earlier thought. "You have to remember."

She closes her eyes, trying to recall something, anything useful. And then there's that word again, that name. Remiel. Why can't I remember? Think!

And at that moment, she sees the room. And she sees a familiar face, staring in her direction. It's Castiel, and he's speaking. "Get out of her, Remiel. Find another vessel."

"Well, I can't exactly do anything, can I Castiel? I'm trapped."

And in that moment, it all came flooding back. "It's Remiel! I said yes…" Get out of her. "she heard those words so much… Was he inside her? On a leap of faith, she yells. "Get out!"

.

.

Sam, Dean and Castiel jump to attention. Anna's head tilts up and a bright, white light pours out of her mouth and disappears into the air. "Anna?!" Sam yells, running to her side.

Anna's eyes flutter open and the first thing she sees is her father. She gives him a small smile. "Sam," she says weakly.

"Hey," he says, undoing her restraints hastily. "Are you okay?" She gives him a small nod and he hugs her tightly. "How did-?" he questions.

"I remembered," she says, before fainting into Sam's arms.

.

.

Anna awakes in her room to see Sam, looking anxious. He was probably waiting for her to wake up. When he sees her eyes open her kneels beside her bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," she says, sitting up. "Is it still my birthday?"

He shakes his head, nodding to the clock which read 12:54 am."

"Oh."

"We'll celebrate tomorrow," he assures her. "If you're okay, then I'll just let you sleep," he says, getting up to leave.

"Wait," she says. "Stay."

He heart melts a little when he sees the soft plea in her eyes. "Okay." He gets up and lays down next to her on the bed. She snuggles into his arms, her head resting on his chest.

After an extended pause, she looks up at him slightly. "Sam, do you believe in God?"

The question confuses him. "Of course," he says, "and angels, and heaven."

"I'm not asking if you believe he exists, I'm asking if you believe in him."

"I don't know," he says quietly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Sam," she says, encasing herself further in his arms.

"I love you, too," he whispers.

* * *

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	5. Trials And Tribulations

**HEY GUYS, THIS CHAPTER GOT A BIT DOMESTIC, SO BEAR WITH ME. I PROMISE THAT THE SUPERNATURAL FORMAT WILL BE BACK IN PLACE SHORTLY. WE'RE GOING TO SEE MORE OF DEAN THIS CHAPTER, SO ENJOY!**

* * *

"Anna Cassidy!" Anna looks up, confusedly at her teacher, Ms. Anthony. "Would you care to tell me what, exactly, in that book is so much more interesting than your work?"

Anna's face visibly reddens. "N-no, ma'am." The teacher's eyes narrow on Anna, and then continues speaking. "I will be assigning the partners for the project. Please remember that this will be a quiz grade. I have taken the time to thoughtfully pair all of you."

The class groans. Ms. Anthony rattles off a few names. "Mary and Amy, Josh and Alexa, Harrison and Zachary, Anna and Jack…"

Anna's face falls. Jack? She was being paired with Jack? He was an idiot, or at least acted like one. She had no idea why he was even in Advanced English.

"You have the rest of class to discuss the project with your partner."

She tried to look neutral as Jack made his way across the classroom to sit next to her, opening his computer. Anna clears her throat. "So, I think that it would be easiest to do a board game."

She's surprised when he looks at her thoughtfully. "But everyone's going to do a board game, aren't they?"

"So, then we make ours different." She doesn't expect her heart to flutter when he smiles at her, brushing his dark brown locks out of his hazel eyes.

"I like the way you think. So, how do you want to make it different?" Anna stares at him for a bit longer than she should before she processes his question.

"Uh, you know, I was thinking something like candy land."

"What, with characters based on English instead of sweets?"

"I can't really draw…"

He shrugs. "I can."

Jack's hand brushes against Anna's as he grabs his textbook. She shivers, but Jack doesn't seem to notice. Anna glances at the clock, noting that they have an hour before the end of school. It was going to be a long hour."

.

.

When Dean picks her up at the end of the day, she doesn't notice that she has a huge grin plastered on her face. "What are you so happy about?" he asks her, looking in the rearview mirror.

The smile on her face immediately dissipates as she lets out a rather unconvincing, "Nothing."

"Uh huh," Dean says sarcastically.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says, shrugging.

"What?!" she asks again, becoming frustrated.

"Who is he?" Dean asks, smiling mischievously.

Anna tenses. "Who's who?" she asks, not-so-nonchalantly.

"Who is this guy that's made you turn all doe-eyed?"

Anna doesn't answer, opting to stare out of the window rather be embarrassed by her Uncle. "Are we starting my training today?"

As a birthday present, Anna had asked to learn how to use a gun. Usually the boys would have answered with a resounding "NO!" However, after the incident with the Angel-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Sam and Dean weren't really in a place to deny her such a security.

That was two weeks said that as soon as she was back in school, her training would begin.

"Yes, we start today," he assures her. After a pause, he continues embarrassing his niece. "So what's his name?"

"I'm not having this conversation."

"You know I'm never going to let up," he admonishes.

Anna sighs. "Yeah, I know."

.

.

When they arrive home, Anna tries to make haste for her room, but it's to no avail, as Sam is waiting for them. "How was school?"

Before Anna could answer, Dean chimed in. "Anna likes a boy."

Sam laughs as Anna glares at his brother. "Stop saying that!" she says angrily. "How could I ever like a boy when you're all idiots!" She stomps away to her room furiously, mostly because Dean was right.

Sam smiles at his brother. "This is why she likes me better."

"Shut up." Dean punches his brother in the arm.

"So, how ready do you think she is for training?" Sam asks, rubbing his arm lightly.

"We'll find out soon enough. I'll make sure she's careful."

He sighs. "Yeah, I know."

.

.

When they get to the gun range, Anna's mouth falls slightly. "This is so cool! I've never been down here before!"

Dean turns to her, narrowing his eyes. "Don't touch anything."

Anna nods. "Okay."

Dean takes his gun out of his holster, holding it up for her to see. He then turns and points it at the target, firing a few rounds. Anna watches in amazement as every one of them hits either in the head or the chest. She rubs her ears to get rid of the ringing as he holds up the gun again. "This is mine." He tucks it back into his belt and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small shotgun. "This is yours once you've earned it." He hands it to her and she sets it down gently on the table in front of the targets.

"It's tiny," she notes quietly.

He looks at her, smiling slightly "Tiny gun for tiny hands."

"They're not tiny!" she exclaims, staring down at them. Dean then takes her right hand and puts it against his left. It was considerably smaller. "Well.."

"The first and most important thing to remember is that you never point a gun at something that isn't a target. Ever. I don't care if you don't think it's loaded."

She glances at her shotgun. "Is that one loaded?"

"No. Next you need to learn how to hold it. He picks up his gun. You see how I'm holding this? This is right." He changes his grip so that his thumbs are crossed, then again so that one hand cupped the handle."This is wrong. If you hold the gun the wrong way, you can hurt yourself."

She nods, looking hesitant. "Pick it up," he says to her. Carefully, she picks it up and tries to mimic his stance. He tucks his gun back into his jeans and walks over to her, correcting her posture. "That's good. You have to be sure of yourself, always. If you're afraid to pull the trigger, don't pick up the gun. It's simple." Anna nods and aims her gun at the target as best she can. "Now, pull the trigger when you're ready." Anna does as she's told, thoroughly surprised when the gun fires, dropping it in the process and rubbing her hands from the impact.

"You said it wasn't loaded!" Anna exclaims, hitting Dean in the arm.

"I lied. And again." She reforms her stance hesitantly and pulls the trigger, this time bracing herself. Her body relaxes when all that the gun provides is a soft click. Dean looks at her expectantly. "And again." Click. "Again." Click. "Again."

.

.

Anna stomps into the kitchen where Sam was making coffee. Dean trails behind her. "How was it?" Sam asks.

Anna ignores him, walking to the fridge. "I'm hungry," she grumbles. She opens the barren wasteland of a fridge and pulls out a carton of milk, pouring herself a glass.

"So what happened?" Sam questions, noting his daughter's sour mood.

She nods over to Dean. Why don't you let him you."

"You know," Sam says, looking between his brother and his daughter, "I think it will be better if you tell it."

"He lied to me! He said the gun wasn't loaded when it was! But here was only one bullet, so after that he just made me stand there in proper 'stance' clicking the trigger over and over again."

"He has his own methods," Sam reasons, "It's not my place to question them. And anyway, it's my turn tomorrow."

Anna was hoping for more support from her father, but sighs at his answer. "I forgot to tell you," she remembers, wanting to change the subject, "I need you to give me money for my chorus uniform."

Sam furrows his brow. "Since when are you in chorus?"

She shrugs. "Since it was the only elective that had space."

"Oh, well, how much is it?"

"Twelve dollars."

.

.

Back in her room, Anna stares at her grades on the computer. English: A, Social Studies: A, Science: A, Math: C. C! She could not have a C this close to the end of the grading period. And further still, she couldn't worry Sam and Dean with something as trivial as a bad grade. They had much, much bigger problems to deal with.

She lays yet another revolting math quiz down on her bed. She got a sixty-eight percent. The teacher say she could earn half of her points back by reworking each incorrect problem on a separate sheet of paper. So, she looked at the first problem, pencil ready.

She did it carefully on her paper, sighing angrily when she gets the same incorrect answer as on the quiz. But she didn't understand. She kept doing the whole thing, left to right, and no success. She knew what would calm her down though. She reached into her dresser drawer to find her journal. With a relieved smile she opened to the last entry and began to write.

November 6th

Dear Journal,

I haven't written since the incident with Remiel. That was kind of crazy, but I've recovered, I guess. Today, Dean started teaching me how to use a gun. That was okay, I guess, although not very fun.

They're going on another hunt tomorrow. One day, I wish they'd take me with them. That's why I wanted to learn to use a gun in the first place.

Castiel is, at best, a weird person, uh, being. And an even weirder babysitter. Not that there's anything wrong with him. From what I understand, he has actually gotten better at comprehending human nature, which is always good. I dunno, being alone with him is just kind of awkward.

Anyway, what would this journal be if I didn't add anything juicy? I think there is a possibility that I may or may not have a crush on a boy named Jack. I'm partners with him on my English project and I'm not sure at this point how this will affect our grade.

I'm signing off with a cliffhanger today, I guess. These entries just keep getting shorter, don't they?

There's a soft knock at the doorframe as she finishes writing the last sentence of her entry. "Can I come in?" Sam asks, holding up the twelve dollars. Anna nods absently, and Sam obliges, watching her search her backpack for the corresponding form. As she does so, Sam's eyes wander to a certain piece of paper laying on her bed. The number sixty-two was written in the top right corner in bold, red marker. Anna's attention snaps to Sam as he picks it up.

"What's this?"

"My math quiz," she says, staring down at her hands.

"Were you planning on telling me about this?"

"No," she says, "but I was going to do extra credit-"

"Anna…" Sam shakes his head at her. "We'll discuss this tomorrow." He tosses the bills on the bed and leaves, wondering to himself about the way he reacted.

.

.

Sam is sitting on his bed, trying to bury himself in the pile of open books he's amassed in the past few hours. Dean pokes his head in the doorway. "Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean?" Sam says, not meaning to sound so exasperated.

"Woah," Dean says, "what's up with you?"

"Nothing," Sam say, dismissing his brother's concern, "what do you need?"

"I was just wondering if you made any progress researching for the next hunt. I hit hit a wall, so…"

"Uh, yeah. So far, it could be a bunch of things."

Dean sighs. "I guess we'll find out when we get there."

* * *

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	6. Gone Hunting

**SORRY ABOUT THE SHORTNESS OF THIS CHAPTER! IRONICALLY, IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE IT. IT SAYS EVERYTHING THAT I WANTED TO CONVEY, THOUGH, DESPITE ITS SLIGHT CHOPPINESS. DON'T WORRY THERE'S MORE TO COME!**

* * *

"Sam wakes abruptly at the sudden blaring of the car radio. He looks over at Dean, who is nodding his head to classic rock. "How long was I out?" Sam wonders, rubbing his eyes.

"A couple hours," Dean says.

"Did you check in with Cass?"

"Yes, I did, and they're both fine, so quit worrying. Worry about the case."

Sam nods. "How far until Wyoming?"

"Got about fifty miles to go."

.

.

"Cass, you _do_ remember the way to school, right?"

"Of course I do," he assures her.

"Riiiiight," Anna says.

Castiel clears his throat. "Which way do I…"

"Left," Anna sighs, staring out of the window.

Upon their arrival at Anna's school, she is not at all surprised to find that she is ten minutes late. "Thanks, Cass," she mutters, waking up to the front doors of the school and pressing the intercom.

She walks into her first period class as her teacher is explaining Punnett squares and dominant and recessive genes.

At the end of fifth period, Anna's stomach churns when her teacher pulls her aside. "Anna, I need to speak to you. I think you know what about."

"Yes…?" she asks, gulping nervously.

"Your grades in this class have been slipping and I think it would be best if I had a chat with your parents."

"Uh, my dad is out of town. On business."

"Well, then I'll just have to speak with your mother."

"Uh, my mom isn't available either."

"Oh, really?" her teacher asked, obviously under the impression that Anna was making excuses. "Why ever not?"

Anna looks down at her feet. "She's dead," she mumbles.

The teacher's sure expression turns to a frown and she suddenly looks very sympathetic. "Well...I am very sorry to hear that." She pauses. "Be sure to notify me when your father is available." Anna groans at the sound of the tardy bell.

"I'll write you a pass."

.

.

Sam let's out a sigh of relief as they pull into the motel where they'll be spending the night.

Once they are settled in, Sam opens his computer to continue research. "So, all of the signs so far are pointing to vengeful spirit. Do you think this'll just be a simple salt and burn?"

Dean shakes his head. "I hope so, Sammy."

.

.

Last period seems to come quicker than Anna expected. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, get into your groups."

Anna tries to keep her cool as Jack comes over, holding a large, white poster board. "You ready to get started?"

"Yeah, and I was wondering, though, candy land is a bit complicated are we just going to-"

"Nope, we are going to make English Land, and it's going to be so good, that the makers of candy land are going to second guess themselves."

Anna takes a moment to admire the triumphant smile on his face. Crap! You're staring again! "Uh," Anna says, trying to recover, "that...sounds like a plan."

"O..kay," he says. "What do we do first?"

"First, we have to write out every question and and answer on the index cards."

"Ugh, that's no fun. Can't I just get started on the game board?"

Anna feels a strong urge to give in and do all the cards herself, but instead says, "Yeah, no."

He shrugs, "Worth a shot." And Anna giggles. It's small, so you might not have noticed if you weren't paying attention. Jack does, though, and he grins, making a mental note to make Anna laugh more often.

.

.

"Have you noticed any strange occurrences in the house, cold spots?"

The tearful woman looks up at Sam. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Ma'am, I think that this will all go over a lot easier if you just answer our questions," Dean interjects.

"No, nothing like that," the woman offers.

"Did Sarah have any enemies, someone who would want to hurt her?" Sam continues.

"Well no… There was…"

"What is it?" he urges.

"Uh, she had this friend, Amy, they were very close. They had a falling out… And not long after, Amy passed…"

"Mrs. White," Dean says, "we're going to have to ask you one more strange question." Dean allows a short pause. "Where was Amy buried?"

.

.

Dean wipes the sweat from his brow as he dusts off Amy's coffin under the cover of night. He pries it open and finds himself slightly taken aback by Amy's beauty. He'd forgotten that she just died. "Got it, Sammy!" Dean says.

Sam nods, helps his brother out of Amy's grave and pours the salt and gas inside of the coffin. He lights a match and holds it up for a moment, only to have it go out seconds later. He tries to light another, but his efforts are stalled when he is flung into the air. "Dean," Sam manages to choke out. He's being held in the air from his throat by an invisible entity.

Dean scrambles for the matchbox and lights one, dropping it hastily onto the grave site. He watches as the spirit burns and a sputtering Sam is dropped to his knees. "Thanks," Sam gasps. Dean nods.

It's just another day.

.

.

At the bunker, Anna opens the refrigerator to find it empty yet again. "Cass!" she yells.

"What is it?" Castiel asks, making his way into the kitchen. "I had to pause Netflix."

"You forgot to get food!" Anna groans.

"No, I didn't," he says. "Look in the freezer." She does as he says and pulls out a tv dinner.

"I meant _real_ food, Cass."

"It's not fake," Castiel says. "You can eat it."

Anna shakes her head at him and pulls up the corner on the tv dinner. She sticks it in the microwave and presses start. "Cass, give me your phone."

"Why?"

"Because I don't have one, and I need to text Sam." He hands it to her, looking puzzled as he begins to type.

 **Castiel: Sam, is your hunt over yet? - Anna**

Anna stares at the screen moment, pleasantly surprised when he responds almost immediately.

 **Sam: On our way home. Should be back by early morning.**

 **Castiel: Please bring food.**

 **Castiel: Why do we never have food?**

 **Sam: Will bring food. See you soon.**

 **Castiel: Hurry. Cass is starting another season on Netflix.**

.

.

Anna's eyes pry open at the sound of the door opening. She looks at the clock next to her. It reads 3:04 am. Her eyes feel like cinder blocks and they don't seem to want to open. But she forces them, and pulls down the covers, exposing her legs to the brisk air of the bunker. She exits into the hallway, looking for Sam or Dean. She hears them. It's just rustling, so they must be trying hard not to wake her.

When Anna enters the kitchen, she is instantly blinded by the brightness of the open refrigerator door. "Mhh," she moans, making out the shadowed images of Sam and Dean.

"Hey," Sam whispers, "what're you doing up?"

"Thirsty," she says groggily. Dean hand her a water bottle that they probably got from their grocery run at the Gas n' Sip. "Thanks, " she mumbles, her eyes feeling extremely heavy. And then they just close.

When Anna awakes again, it's in her bed, and to her seven o'clock alarm

* * *

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	7. Dinner Theatre

_Anna thrashes in her sleep, mumbling nonsensically. Sweat forms on her brow._

 _Everything is still. She calms down a bit at the familiar surroundings. She's home, in her room. But then she hears it, the muffled sobbing in the room that somehow formed the words, "O-okay, thank you, Doctor."_

 _Then she remembers. This is when her mother found out._

 _The setting around her changes into a hospital and she's sitting next to her mom's bed. She's wearing her favorite bandana and Anna has tears streaming down her face._

" _Anna, sweetheart," Rose begins, "it's all going to be okay." She takes Anna's face into her hands. "I don't want you to be scared. It's okay to be sad, but I don't want you to be sad forever, okay?" Anna nods as the dream changes once more._

 _They're handing her a shovel. They're expecting her to pick up pile and dump it on her mother. She shakes her head. "No," she says, shying away._

 _They continue to extend it toward her. "Anna, you have to," they tell her._

" _No," she repeats, "no!" And then they're closing in on her. "No!"_

 _Then she sees Sam in front of her. But she's not in the graveyard anymore. She's somewhere evil._

 _._

 _._

 _Dean wakes to a scream, getting out of bed swiftly and running out into the hallway. He sees Sam and they nod to each other before peering into her room. She's thrashing in her sleep mumbling the word "no" over and over again._

 _Dean turns to his brother. "You can go sleep, I've got this, Sammy."_

 _Still half asleep, Sam nods and mumbles, "M'kay."_

 _Dean enters Anna's room and sits on her bed, gently shaking her awake. "Anna. Anna. Wake up." Anna's movement becomes even more erratic as she begins to kick at and hit her uncle. "Anna!"_

 _She wakes abruptly. "Sam?"  
"It's Dean, you're okay."_

 _She wraps her arms tightly around him. "Did I hurt you?"_

" _No, I'm okay, don't worry about me. I wanna know what's up with you."_

 _She begins to cry into Dean's shoulder. "I-I'm sorry I just keep having dreams about m-m m-mommy." she sobs even harder. He pulls her into a tighter hug and rubs her back._

" _I know, I know. How you feel now will pass, I promise you."_

" _H-how do y-you know?"_

" _I've lost so many people, Anna. More than you could imagine. And I'm still standing. I lost my mom and my dad. You have Sam."_

"What a load of crap." Anna scoffs. She's fourteen now. She doesn't have Sam or Dean. They left her with Jody. It's not like she doesn't love Jody, but this whole thing is unfair. Sam is her Dad and he's not here. She doesn't care if he's off saving the world. Why does it have to be up to him?

It's not like she hasn't made friends in Sioux Falls, she has. Some maybe more than friends. But she longs for the family she used to have before things got "too dangerous."

She sighs and takes out her phone to call Sam. It rings once before going straight to voicemail.

This is Sam, you know what to do.

She hangs up and tries Dean. He answers after three rings. "Hey what's up?"

"Who's that?" she hears Sam say in the background.

"Anna," Dean whispers in reply.

"Is Sam there? I called him first but he didn't pick up."

"Oh, yeah, his phone's dead. I'll put you on speaker."

"So, I know you're busy and everything but I'm in the school play and I was wondering if maybe you could come see it? It's tomorrow night and I know you probably can't come but I-"

"We'll be there." Dean interjects.

"Really? O-okay it's at 7:30! I can't wait to see you guys!"

"See you there." Dean says. Anna hangs up.

Sam shoves Dean. "What the hell was that? 'We'll be there'?"

"We will. You're not missing this and neither am I."

"What if we can't make it, Dean? In case you haven't noticed we have our hands full with Jack."

"I know. We'll find a way and we'll be there."

"You really think so?"

Dean doesn't answer for a moment. "She's family. We lost so much of our family but she's still around, and we're sure as hell not missing her play."

"What are we gonna do with Jack? Take him with us?"

"Goddammit, I don't want him anywhere near her."

"He was okay on the hunt, Dean."

"Fine. But she's not meeting him."

"Fine."

"Jody!" Anna yells. "Guess what?"

"What?" Jody calls from the kitchen.

"Sam and Dean are coming to the play!"

Anna's caregiver walks down the hall and leans against the doorframe of the bedroom. "That's great, Anna."

"Do you think they'll really come?"

"I think they will certainly try."

"I wish the stupid monsters didn't always come first." She draws her knees to her chest.

"We've been over this."

"That doesn't make it fair! They're my family. Do you remember how I used to journal?"

A soft smile lights up Jody's tired features. "Yes."

"I stopped. A month after they left me here, I stopped. I figured 'why bother'?"

"They'd do anything for you, you know."

"I know."

"They'll be here."

When the curtain falls on the play's opening night, three words race through Anna's head. Please be here.

When she decostumes, she runs head first into the crowds of congratulatory faces. But the first familiar face she encounters isn't that of Sam or Dean.

"Hi!" A voice says, someone's hand slipping into Anna, fingers interlocked.

Anna grins. "Hey!"

"You did so well!" The girl presses a soft kiss to Anna's cheek. "I'm so proud."

"Thanks, Rey." Anna says, standing on her toes to see over the crowd.

"Looking for Jody?"

"No, my dad and uncle are supposed to be here."

"Oh, can I meet them?" Anna shoots a nervous glance at Reya. "What, you don't think they'll be cool?"

"No...I don't know, I just…"

"Okay. That's fine." Reya frowns a little.

Anna takes both of the girl's hands. "Hey, I'm not embarrassed, okay? I'm just not ready."

"Anna!" Someone calls. Anna recognizes Dean's voice immediately and turns around to see the two gruff men coming toward her.

She gives Reya a look as if to say, I'm sorry, and runs into Sam's arms.

"You got taller." He says.

She hugs Dean and he rubs her back. "And you cut your hair." He says, marveling and how the curly mess stopped at her shoulders.

They both hand her red roses. She takes them with a smile. "You were amazing." Sam says.

"Thank you for coming." She pauses. "Where's Jody?"

"Ah, she had a hunt come up last minute. Said she'll see it tomorrow night." Dean says. "Let's take you home."

After a few minutes of silence in the car, Dean says, "So who was that girl you were talking to? Why didn't you introduce us?"

Anna tenses. "Uh...don't worry about it, it's nobody."

"Doesn't sound like nobody."

"Dean," Sam interjects.

"She's my friend. Her name's Reya."

"So...not nobody." Dean muses.

"No."

Another few minutes of quiet pass. "So, uh, you...hold hands with all your friends?" Sam elbows his brother to stop talking.

"I'm not having this conversation."

"You could have introduced us. We don't bite."

"I didn't want to, okay? And how come you want to know everything about me all of the sudden? You're never around anymore!"

"Anna, I'd love to know everything. I want to know everything about you and you know it kills us that we can't be around to see all of it." Sam says.

"I know."

"So if there's something you want to maybe tell us…" he continues.

"I don't hold hands with my friends." She pauses. "Okay?"

"That's okay." Sam says. "It's okay."


End file.
